Mirror Mirror
by Shamelessly Reckless
Summary: "Mirror—Mirror on the wall… show me the fairest one of them all." Mating has never been more deadly. There's nothing kind nor sweet about them. There isn't one but three poisonous apples and a mere taste of one can corrupt completely. Yet in this fairy tale no one is really innocent and morality is just as mythical as it's immortals. Even the fairest of them all has her secrets.
1. Chapter 1

"Mirror—Mirror on the wall…" a husky chuckle shaking his motionless torso, "show me the fairest of them all." Eyes forward addressing the pathetic human cowering before him.

The human knew better than to speak—his starved and beaten body retained the pains of disobedience. He quaked but silently submitted to the whims of his sadistic masters wishes.

After all it was his gifts that kept him alive this long. His rare ability was the capability to conjure the active actions of any person that he came into contact with—one look and he could peek in on said persons every day actions. With the added ability to materialize those images so that others could see he lived a pretty debase life. He used his gifts for his own debauch amusement. That was until the Dark King of Italy (as some called him) caught wind of his gift—within the week the human man was captured and enslaved.

Materializing the image of a dark-skinned child around the age of eight appeared before the Dark King of Italy. When he had first shown him, the image was so realistic that he once believed that he could reach out and touch the child.

Observing the child, her face was confused and down cast, he took in account her surroundings—she was at a funeral. The image before him was so cliché that all was needed was a downpour for the added effect.

The image had slightly faded for a millisecond too long for him and dire for the human—cutting a cynical eye towards the human, who was now recoiling within himself.

An eyebrow raised at the sputtering mess before him.

"I'm sorry Master I-I-I'm just so hungry. A lack of food makes my ability weak," he choked out, cracked lips shaking as he watched to see what the immortal would do.

He cocked his head, in a show of contemplation on the pathetic creature request, his eyes unblinking with no sign of emotions. Minutes passed when he mutely reached down into a bucket that rested by his seat. Retracting his arm he revealed a chunk of ham that caused the human to swallow thickly.

A tender smile softened the immortals face, deceptive, but effective. The man's eyes glazed over with hunger and love—a false warped feeling of love that came from being locked away for so long with only one man in control of ones life.

His master could be savior or his end.

"You've earned this meal,," he murmured, long lashes fluttering against his cheek as he chuckled once again, "you've been such a good boy,"

With that said he tossed the meat to the ground a few inches from the human with century old patience he waited until the human choked down the food.

"All better now?" he cooed in a mocking tone that was lost upon the male.

Instead of answering he dutifully materialized the image that came to be much more detailed and clear now that he had food in his belly.

Crimson eyes turned back towards the child. The service was now over and two caskets were being lowered into the ground. He noticed with piqued interest that as every human in attendance cried with a mixture of sadness and pity the girl held no such emotion. She didn't cry as a child should in such circumstances—the lack of grief was clear and her face held the air of indifference.

She was completely unbothered by the events around her the only word to described her behavior was serene.

Approaching the graves that held her loved ones the rose that she had clutched throughout the whole service—reaching her arm out dropping it into the graves.

Just then she raised her eyes and stared straight ahead; the position of the image gave the illusion that she was staring at him. He inhaled a slow unneeded breath as he stared at the gray-blue iris of his mate—a young human who wasn't even close to puberty, yet already held otherworldly beauty like his own.

His emotions for the human child was that of contradiction—she was his source of curiosity and his internal aversion.

"Dismiss the image," he stated sharply, the image instantly faded, though those piercing eyes was held in memory.

The human slumped to the floor, completely spent after holding the images for so long—his body sagged into a comatose like sleep, which was natural of humans who used abilities that demanded more energy then they possessed.

His thoughts filled with abhorrence and deep disgrace—he was not a man to regret any decision he made it was why he was so feared and respected; however, there was only one incident that he regretted the most and that was the day he stumbled upon the girl.

He had the misfortune of having to travel to a small insignificant town right off the sea to see about a new recruit. It was rumored that this person had the ability to control an element and rightfully it captured his attention immediately.

With a small reserved group of immortal guards, he traveled to investigate for himself, instead all he found was a small child no older than six playing on the beach; even though he was mildly curious as to why the child would be out this late he was rather disappointed.

The child didn't seem unique at all and was far too young to possess any gift that would be developed enough for his use; coming to the conclusion to execute the vampire that gave him the false information on his return to Italy.

Before his cloaked body could turn—the child turned towards him. His body froze as childish eyes sparkled at his figure. She smiled and waved; fearless of the figures that stood mere feet from her even though the sun had long since set.

Neither did he wave nor respond in anyway other than staring.

Fighting the primal instincts that told him to whisk the child away and keep her locked away forever; to stake his claim on the girl and keep her away from all other life until she was old enough to be possessed fully by himself…and yet he knew better.

He was many things; cruel, sadistic, masochistic, and malevolent, but a fool he was not. Spontaneous was not a definition of his character—he did not make rash decisions on emotions—he was a man of logic and carefully planning. As a result, he instantly rejected the primal urges and left the area promptly; however, he did request his guard to get all matter of information he could on the child—only for future research on a potential gift of course or so he told himself.

Months passed and his body pained and craved the image of the child the desire to see the child was too great—he had to see her. The weakness within himself fueled his animosity and determination to resist. It wasn't until his brother approached him; never one to mince words, the immortal seemed to have no time for anything except brooding in his own wretchedness.

" _Rejecting the mating bond does nothing but drain you…very unwise on your part."_

He was furious deep within, but to the outside world he was the picture of composed. Merely questioning the source of his brother's information a ghost of a smile touched the mans face before disappearing in thin air.

 _"I have a gift_ ," he mocked grating on his brother pride and feeding the fire of his temper, _"You are connected to the girl…"_

He remembers watching his brother turn his back on him—the ill fitted suit that hung from his crooked body was all that he could see.

" _We all are,"_ he added before disappearing.

After that incident he knew that he had to act wisely, his brother was right of course, denying himself was doing nothing for him. In addition, he wasn't in the habit of denying himself anything; however, the new bit of information that they, his brothers and himself, were apparently all mated to the human child sent a flare of possessive obsession into his veins. The forbidden fruit just became that much more desired. He decided to keep the existence silent from his other brother.

He kept tabs on the girl with the use of technology and discreetly sending out trusted guards to inquire over her progress and health daily; his animosity and curiosity for the child grew after each report. It wasn't until he received information about a man that held the ability of conjuring and materializing a constant feed of someone's daily activities after being in their presence for a few minutes. Capturing the man was easy, bending him to his will was even more simple, and enslaving him was done within a matter of months.

Everything was going according to plan, his constant need for visual assurance of his mate was sated, and he never had to be within her presence.

He was even more shocked to realized that his mate was indeed gifted!

Her powers developing at a young age increased everyday—her gift could be of great use to the Volturi and increase their power momentously. However, her presence could weaken him emotionally and publicly, she could possibly begin to influence him and his decisions, that could not be allowed.

Years passed and so his secret remained such; nonetheless, as the saying goes, nothing good last forever.

"Mirror—mirror…" the image of his mate appeared, his slave had become quicker these pass years, after all a decent lashing can be a very strong motivating force.

Today was a rare day, his mate was exercising her gift again, he gazed at her tentative expression. At the age of fifteen she was at the awkward phase of her bodies growth; with long legs, a flat chest, eyes and lips to big for her face. He knew enough about aging to know that she'd grow into her features, so absorbed in watching the girl that he missed the slight shift in air.

"Your into little girls now, Aro?" Caius inquired a few feet from his chair.

Aro was shocked to say the least, but remained cool, he refused to allow the other immortal to realize that he was able to enter with him being unaware. He cursed internally, the girl was already making a mock of him and she wasn't even there.

His lips parted to tell his slave to stop the image, unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough before his brothers sharp eyes caught sight of the child using her gift.

"Stop the image!" he snapped, again the image faded, but the damage was done.

"Ah, the girl has a gift, a useful one too. You will bring her here?" Caius stated, casually walking around to face him.

Caius knew how familiar and easy dishonesty was for his brother, yet he could always spot a lie, so he stared at his brother's face looking for any hint of deception.

Aro schooled his features, eyes flickering towards Caius, he knew that his brother didn't feel the mating bond. One had to be in the literal presence of their intended, before the bond official formed. But Aro knew that if Caius grew curious enough he would bring the child to Italy and they'd all be doomed. She'd warp their thinking and beliefs into hers; she'd change them; make them see the good in themselves. Aro has seen some of the most ruthless immortals fall onto their knees becoming disgusting shells of themselves that live to please and gain the approval of their mate.

Never would Aro become such a being; it took over three thousand years to hone his skills and body into that of a ruler that demanded respect. He would not lose that because of some lesser life form that the Gods deemed his mate. He'd rather dispose of her than let that happen; however, the situation has not reached the point for that train of thought.

"No brother, she will not be recruited."

Caius face twisted up into a look of accusation and confusion, "Why is that?"

Smiling softly, he stood from his chair and laid his hands upon his brother's shoulders, "Truly brother I've watched the child, she would only be a hindrance to the Volturi not an asset."

Aro knew that half truths were the only way to invade his brother's knack for spotting lies—true she would be a hindrance to the Volturi, specifically himself.

Caius narrowed his eyes until they were nothing, but black slits hidden deep within his eyes socket, "You've come to this conclusion all from watching the child."

"Yes," he answered simply.

He stepped away from Aro's gentle hands and leisurely walked around him towards the human. He tried to crawl away but the chains kept him place, Caius kneeled down ignoring the whimpering of the human.

The man knew of this blond haired immortal's reputation for extreme torture and savagery; grasping the chains that held the man in place he pulled the man a hairs breath away from himself.

The chains were unneeded; the man couldn't fight even if he wanted to, the chains were another form of mental manipulation.

"Is what you master speaks true or is he trying to deceive me?" Caius questioned in a low tone. His eyes bore into the man until the pungent odor or urine permeated the air. Caius nose wrinkled, but he persisted, "You've seen the girl? Is she really a hindrance?"

Caius really didn't care what the human had to say he was using his own mental warfare against his brother, he smirked, he could almost feel the ire coming off Aro.

"You're asking my pet what he thinks?" Aro tutted, clicking his tongue, "disappointing."

Dropping the human Caius stood turning towards his brother, "I ask your pet, because his owner isn't being truthful."

"I told you…"

Caius pointed to the spot where the girl stood not moments ago before fading, "I watched her for a few seconds and saw her gift! We always receive hindrances, but we've broken them and molded them as we saw fit," huffing, he continued growling more irked the more he spoke.

He couldn't understand why Aro was acting so foolish and skittish about a small child, "If you aren't up to the task of breaking in a new human than give her to me. I'll have her ready in a month," he spat a bit of venom flickering on the floor.

Aro scoffed, "She'd be dead in three days."

"So be it."

He thought for a bit—it disturbed him that he feared for the child's life.

"I will handle this situation."

"You will bring her in?" Caius persisted like a petulant child.

"I will not, but I will handle the child," his resolve remained.

Caius opened his mouth preparing to repeat his earlier words; however, Aro was done with the debate.

"I will not discuss this any further. This is my catch and I shall choose to do what I please with it! Plus…" to lighten the air, he inclined his head towards the human, who now laid in his own urine curled into a small ball, "…our discussion is upsetting my pet."

His brother was undeterred; analyzing him in the search of a lie within his words…a minute passed before he walked passed him towards the door.

"This isn't over Aro, you're not the only one that gets what they want," with that he shut the door behind him.

"We shall see," a smirk pulled at his features revealing the wickedness of his soul—he slowly turned to the creature on the floor and with a false perplexed expression voiced, "Now what are we to do with you."


	2. Chapter 2

A wise woman once spoke, you will never be as important as the ocean—famous or infamous you would never equate to the majesty of the ocean. In one breath it brought life and substance; while in another, it could bring destruction and death without a moments hesitation. Bounded by nothing—crusading in a century old dance that never lost its beauty. Within its enteral depth hidden from civilization—riddles woven in each wave, crashing against the rocks, the temperamental temptress daring man to solve them.

The majestic scene was never lost upon her—blue-gray irises stared out into the beautiful crystal ocean filled with admiration. A look one gives their own mother.

The ocean mist from the countless waves showering her smooth earthly complexion and luscious pink lips—the way the cool water washed upon her skin sent chills through her body—the closest she could ever get to nirvana. Another wave crashed against the rocks sending a jolt of glee through her body filling her with euphoria at the waters roar of ferocity.

Many had thought her behavior odd with the fascination of the very object that hurt her family…then again many in the town thought she had been an odd child.

She on the other hand did not find her behavior to be strange—the family she was born to was not hers, the death of the woman and daughter that blood decided was her mother and little sister held no effect on her, for she had never saw them as family. Water was her mother, the ocean her sire, the river her siblings, the lakes her lovers, and the small waters were her children.

So when her father told her that she had to give up on her obsession with water her decision was easy. She watched the once loving father and husband drown his sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Gregory Temple never raised a hand towards his daughter. Even as his eyes glazed over with the influence of alcohol and his mind drifted into forgotten times.

He tore down her pictures of rushing currents, smashed her oceanic CDs, and burned every piece of clothing that reminded him of the watery depths she decided to leave.

Gregory lost his beautiful wife and youngest daughter he would never allow his oldest to leave as she packed her bags with a simple smile on her face at the freedom that lay outside those doors.

He'd entered the room.

He was sober for once with a clear mind he begged his daughter to stay she couldn't leave him alone. She couldn't abandon him like his wife and daughter. As tears streamed down his face she stared at the liquid droplets with lustful amazement her dainty hand lifted touching the small droplet and to her father's horror she brought it to her mouth and tasted it.

It was delicious.

The liquid sent shivers down her spine and energy through her body.

With that taste her smile grew and she shook her head at her father. She could not stay. Like her mother she had to be free. She could not live amongst mortals that didn't respect nor love the ocean and sea like she did.

He didn't like that.

As his face turned red and his eyes blazed with determination he tried to restrain her. She watched with a frown on her face as he unpacked her bags, threw her things onto the floor.

"I won't let you leave!"

He yelled and raged.

She saw the love still within his eyes bright and clear as the endless blue skies.

But her eyes didn't reflect that love. How could she love him?

He didn't respect her nature.

So she had to do what was needed to be free.

It was only twenty minutes later that she left the house. Body soaked from head to toe in water. Her beautiful jet black hair clung to her face, lips blue from the cold water droplets and the night's air. The simple floral summer dress clung to her body like a second skin. The police sirens were heard in the distance and her bare feet headed off into a different direction, towards the sea.

As the police entered the two story home they were shocked at the state of the home. Pools of water was everywhere, dripping from the ceiling and soaking the carpet. Glass windows was broken, shattered across the floors. The house appeared to have been hit with a tsunami of epic proportions.

Finally, the two police officers stumbled upon a single body within the middle of the floor. Forty-five-year-old male named Gregory Temple. The widower. The man who tragically lost his wife Melody Temple and his baby girl Lillian Temple during a fishing trip. The town pitied to poor man whose wife and daughter was thrown over and drowned during a terrible storm. Within the house was only him and his surviving sixteen-year-old daughter.

The ambulance arrived. The cause of death was Asphyxia, suffocation resulting from aspiration of water or another liquid substance. As Gregory's dead grey eyes stared forward the police officers ruled foul play. Their main suspect being the fathers only remaining daughter who was nowhere on the scene. Communication passed between the police officers, two hours later news crew were on the scene reporting the gruesome scene and the search for their main suspect.

Only hours later, now in the present, she remained on the beach staring out into the ocean still in her floral sundress. Her serene eyes gave no signs of distress over the cold murder of her father. A murder that she committed.

She was at peace.

Her eyes took on a lethargic gaze and she cherished the time between herself and the water.

Even as she heard the police sirens grow closer towards her location, she remained seated. No one would ruin this moment, not even the four uniform police officers coming down the beach. After a tip from a neighbor who often saw the daughter of Gregory on the beach the police had her location.

She inhaled softly breathing in the wet air and filling her lungs with the smell that brought her so much happiness.

"Don't move."

Several masculine voices called raising their guns towards her slight form. Oh she had no intentions of moving. If she could she'd stay in this spot for the rest of her life and beyond. By the water was where she belonged.

Her head never turned, eyes never distracted from the waves even as a police officer approached her.

"Ayana Temple you are under arrest for the alleged murder of your father Gregory Temple," grabbing her thin arms they lifted her to her feet and placed the steel cuffs around her wrist. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

The officers grew more and more disturbed as Ayana continued to silently gaze at the sea with such longing. Even as they read off her Miranda Rights she gazed on with an expression of such serenity. Her guilt was proven as she seemed well aware of her father's death. There was no shock nor grief on her expression.

The officers grew more disgusted as a slow dreamy smile spread across her face the longer she looked upon the water. Wanting to end this behavior they yanked her around away from the sight and towards the police cruiser. Yet, the smile remained present on her face the image of her mother within her minds eye. Her true nature.

The smile and lethargic eyes seemed to be a permanent expression, through the questioning, during her trial, as she was found criminally insane during a psych evaluation. Lawyers and doctors grew concerned because of her lack of empathy and distant demeanor. She was diagnosed with a Schizophrenia and Psychotic disorder, Schizoid personality disorder, dissociation, and the list went on.

Due to her many 'issues' instead of getting 25 years to life in prisons she was sentenced 5 years in a forensic psychiatric facility until deemed cured. The success rate of those judged cured after being determined criminally insane was a hulking twenty-five percent.

Yet as she gazed at the four walls all she could see was the crystal blue waters. It's weightless gravity pulling her deeper and deeper into it's chilling abyss. Eyes closed she hummed in satisfaction that the picture remained clear in her mind even when she was so far away from her love. She could see the waves softly crash against the rocks like a gentle caress. She was mesmerized.

Her small hand rose making slow waving motions imitating the gentle waves of the sea. She continued to do this back and forth.

The small sink within her room shook slightly.

She repeated the motion, her throat humming a tuneless melody.

Again the sink shook.

Her head rocked back and forth.

The sink shook once more before a string of water floated from the sink and towards the small figure within the room. The water flowed with the motion of her hand like an obedient spirit.

As she opened her eyes she gazed fondly at her only companion. The only thing that stuck by her side no matter where she went or how erratic her moods became.

Again she moved her hand from left to right and the water followed.

She did this for hours until blood streamed from her nose, another hour and it started to spill from her ears, fifteen minutes later from her eyes. Still she continued, refusing to break this connection.

Ayana's eyes soon began to burn the dull grey gradually lighting up to a royal sea blue glowing within the darkened room.

Her vision blurred as dark spots swam at the edges of her vision. It wasn't until her vision darkened completely and she collapsed onto her cot did the water finally cease.

Ayana smiled within her forced slumber waiting until she was released from her second prison. She'd patiently wait until her Mother rescued her from her bonds.


	3. Chapter 3

Although gifted guards like Jane and Alec were the meat of the Volturi, the others who held no gift, such as, Felix, Santiago, and Lucinda were the backbone of the coven. If the recruitment was solely handle by Aro, none-gifted immortals would be tossed into the dust without a glance. This was why Caius made it his business to oversee the recruitment along with his brother.

He understood the significance to have both gifted and none-gifted immortals within the guards. The coven needed lethal skilled soldiers who were willing to die for their cause and their monarchs. While he never spoke it aloud, Caius favored his non-gifted guardsman and women over the gifted guards. The gifted guards were powerful in their own right but lacked close combat skills and without their gifts—ones like Lucinda and Santiago would destroy them with ease.

Nonetheless gifted immortals were always welcomed…it they proved useful.

He couldn't resist the scoff that whistled past his lips as his eyes gazed over the potential immortal recruits. Over fifty vampires stood within the throne room; heads held high and eyes forward—each one ready to pledge loyalty to the royal guard. Some held gifts while others only had themselves presented as a willing sacrifice.

Stepping to each, he asked them their purpose of joining the Volturi testing their agility and strength. Picking apart their lies and weaknesses easily as he dismissed most, gifted ones were equally dismissed as well.

Out of fifty a mere nineteen remained in front of the opposing immortal.

Aro in the most mocking of tones turned to his brother, "Caius why throw away so much talent? Are you harboring some spite towards the gifted hmm?" Using his brothers complex against him.

Caius turned slightly not rising to the bait instead ignoring the pompous fool—passing instructions on to Felix for the new recruit training and finally turned fully towards Aro who merely grinned.

Raising a sardonic brow, he awaited the usual mundane speech that was given a least once a month.

"Did I strike a nerve?"

"Not in the least."

Clicking his tongue, Aro pushed off the wall and slowly approaching his dear brother.

"Levitation is an interesting thing? Melody was dismissed so easily."

He exhaled his rising temper through his nostrils while his cheek ticked slightly, raising his darkening eyes towards the raven haired male, "Is there a point being made soon?"

Aro's eyes began to slowly darken with contempt as he tilts his head—layers of silky tresses falling over his shoulder, face slightly shadowed, he hissed out his next words, "Why?"

Noticing his counterparts growing anger his mood brightened and his usual devious smirk slide upon his features.

"There's a reason I'm in charge of recruitments—I see weakness," he murmured circling Aro slyly, each step slow and deliberate.

Aro's body remained still but his eyes followed the blond-hair ruler actions.

"I can see the cracks within an otherwise solid wall."

"Is there a point being made soon?" Aro drawled using his brother words from earlier.

Stopping once more in front of his brother he made a show of running his eyes over the 6'2 statures with low-lidded slowness.

"Melody was a coward! She used her gift of levitation to evade Santiago's attack."

"And she was successful…yes?"

His lips twitched with a raised eyebrow in an agreeable manner, "Yes, she did but what happens when she isn't successful? What happens when she can't evade and she's knocked down? Seconds later she's dead and we're left one-guard-less!"

"You couldn't train her?"

"She wasn't worth it," he stated simply.

Releasing a breath, Aro closed his eyes willing himself the patience he needed to deal with his brother.

"Very well."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Caius murmured arrogantly; however, feeling a little sadistic he added, "though I know of a particular gifted human that may be of use to us?"

He turned his back to him, Aro, began to leave the room, he was not a fan of repeating himself and Caius only wanted to get a rise from him.

Yet, before he could leave the room he heard his brothers whispered words…

"Fifteen years…it is a very long time to handle a matter? When will I get to meet little Ayana Temple?"

Aro didn't know how or when Caius took the time to research the child, as far as he knew, Caius had lost interest in the girl as he usually did. He didn't interfere in his brother's affairs and the same could once be said about his brother. Yet, the one occasion that he needed his brother to heed his words he only dug deeper into Pandora's box.

"Haven't heard you this silent for centuries…did _I_ strike a nerve?"

The dark laugh that followed gave Aro enough understanding of his brother intentions on the matter. He could care less about the young girl that he was unaware was all of their mates.

This was only another game for his brother—a chance for his malicious spirit and nefarious thoughts to take center. Aro had unknowingly egged his brother on fifteen years ago by acting so emotional regarding the matter—he had given Caius ammunition.

Eyes closed he pictured the small child now woman—a woman that was locked away—kept from society and deemed insane.

He had no desire to see her in such condition each day that he gazed upon her lying on a ratty cot only stirred unwanted emotions more and more. Those emotions; however, fed his resolve that the woman must never be anywhere near Volterra, she was already corrupting him thousands of miles away.

She had to remain locked away; that was the only way he could ensure distance.

Schooling his features and into a relaxed posture than he spoke in a pleasant voice, "Leave it."

Caius eyes narrowed.

When he finally heard his brother's footsteps disappear into the distance he raised his eyes towards the ceiling, early art gazing back at him.

"Why do they assume me a fool? Vadim."

Within seconds a figure appeared before him; with his 5'4 stature and dirty blood hair Vadim appeared to be harmless, yet, he shared qualities of brutality and bloodlust of his ruler the reason why he was Caius favorite.

He was a man with a high level of intelligence and skilled fighter—assigned the role as Caius personal guard he achieved each mission he was given by his master with precision and promptness. This assignment would be no different. Vadim bowed low at the waist showing his mater proper respect, "Yes, my lord."

Eyes still on the door he addressed his guard, "Remember that little gift that we may have to get for my dear brother?" he paused for dramatic effect as a devious smirk came to him, "Well I believe its time to deliver."

The darkness was everlasting and unending nothing existed within her minds eyes as days blurred to weeks, months, and years. The only real things that she physically felt was the prick of a needle four times a day—she was kept under constant comatose state. The only time she was allowed to actually feel was when they allowed the drugs to leave her system, this happened usually when the courts or her Psychiatrist would see her.

His name was Doctor Oliver Mitchell.

The name was all she knew of the man—her sessions with the old fool wasn't what was significant but the hour that she was allowed to feel after her session. Each hour only made her desire to be drugged again the hospital was sick, a disgusting gutter for the broken and forgotten. She was transferred there once she hit eighteen and legally an adult and was altogether forgotten—the patients of course were treated as such. The beds were terrible, the food no more than sloppy gruel, needles were maliciously jabbed into one's body shooting them full of liquid poison.

What was worse was that some patients—the pretty and handsome ones were molested and raped. She could hear the grunts, groans, and the rhythmic squeak of a bed, the patients that they took were strategically drugged at the right moment. A woman or man that was dead to the world could neither scream nor fight they were easy picking for the taking.

The first day she entered and noticed the leering of orderlies she knew that she had to protect herself. Still to protect herself would be to condemn herself by the actions she had to take—she had to sink further into insanity in order to protect herself.

When the dosage for her medication was particularly low she killed her first orderly—one of the men who leered at her on her first day. Her medication dosage was upped but not enough; during one of their group sessions she picked up a chair and broke one of the other patients nose.

On her third act of violence which was towards one of the needle carrying devils she was deemed dangerous to society. Only three other patients were locked on the Red Floor; a floor that could only be accessed by two people and both were hard strict women. Her medication was tripled to comatose dosage and she was locked away never allowed to see the light of day but she was safe from what some of the other patients who had more _freedom_ had to endure.

It only took her another year to lose hope of release she was resigned to live in the darkness until her last days floating in an endless sea of nothingness and despair.

As she felt her senses return to her she knew that she'd soon feel the prick of the needle. They didn't allow her to become aware for no more than a minute. So as she felt the chill on her skin and hard springs digging into her back she tensed preparing, mouth parted as her tongue licked out soothing the dry ashy lips. The muscles in her arms stung and jumped a bit causing her hand to twitch. She raised her left shoulder groaning at the uncomfortable wool bed covers that rubbed against her thinly clothed body. When thin strips of dim light met her half opened eyes she knew something was wrong—something was horribly wrong they never allowed her to be this aware.

Blinking, a few times, she was unaccustomed to the light, she stared at the ceiling. The drugged out abyss left her reeling over the new found awareness. She probably would have stared at the ceiling for the rest of the day if it weren't for the noise towards her left. Still in a drowsy slowness she turned her head, eyes widen at the scene beside her three men stood within her room.

One of them restraining one of the head orderlies; the woman face was flushed as a pale hand covered her mouth. She gazed into the brown eyes of the woman who blankly doped her four times a day—the eyes that she peered into was no longer black, but filled with terror that chilled one's bones.

The woman struggled against her capture before whining as arms around her tightened. Ayana distinctively heard a faint crack before the brown iris went dull. The arms released her and a small dribbled of blood leaked from her mouth as she crumbled to the floor struggling for air for another minute or two before life left her body.

Ayana watched this wordlessly the drugs still causing her mind to react slowly to things. She really did have no love for the woman—gray eyes left the body that lay on the floor and ran up the tall cloaked frame of the being that seemingly crushed the woman's body. For agonizingly slow seconds all she saw was black cloak before a pale neck was recognized within her mind. A pale neck that lead to an even paler face, lips downturned and severe, and finally blood red eyes.

"That can't be normal."

The man stared back at her with a mask of indifference eyes running over each man—she noticed that though they had their own unique features the red eyes remained the same.

Her eyes shot over to the one closest to her as she became more in control of her motor skills. This figure had an otherwise handsome rugged face with dirty blond hair and full lips. His eyes gazed into her own obviously trying to gagged her condition she stared back into his eyes in awe at the unique color. So focused on his eyes that she was startled when his hushed voice spoke, "Enough of the medication is out of her system for our sedative not to cause health risk. It's time for our package to return back to slumber."

Ayana panicked.

She tried to move—anything but was soon forced back into the dark abyss. The tips of her fingers spread out willing her gift to protect her but as she felt the familiar prick her hands curled. It was too late; she could already feel the liquid poison coursing through her veins. If she was within her right mind she might have been able to use her gift to extract the liquid that held at least some percentage of water within it.

Alas once again she was resigned to her fate as darkness closed in at the edges of her vision.

A forlorn sigh left her lips.

Eyes half lidded its eyes stared forward at the portrait of a beautiful woman. The woman with striking raven hair that was pinned up with delicate ringlets falling against her velvety smooth skin. He knew without a doubt that if he ran his hands down those cheeks they'd be cool and smooth to the touch. He could almost hear the giggle that would leave her ruby red lips at his touch. Her lips would curve into a careless smile as radiant as the stars on a darkened night.

She"d reach up and lay her hand upon his; lips parted she'd whisper, "I love you Marcus."

The ghost of a smile graced his otherwise withered features as he relived long dead times. Low candles burned dimly within his sacred room used reservedly for his mourning. Heat warmed his chilled flesh but never did it seep within him, never could it match the warmth he felt when she touched him.

His wife.

His love.

His life.

Didyme.

As the minutes ticked away, a feeling spread within his chest. Lifting his hand that laid across his face, he frowned. The feeling spread across his chest and burrowed deep within him. Clutching his chest he gave a dry cough doubling over.

The feeling felt good and pleasant. He didn't understand it at first. Something was digging into his chest and latching on like a hungry leech. Closing his eyes he could see it with his minds eye. A line that started out translucent was strengthening. As the line extended from himself it broke off into two other lines all connected to one glowing source. Understanding struck him like the piecing blade of an enemies sword sinking deep within him with a sickly realization.

"No!" He snarled so ferociously that it shook his being.


End file.
